Kings and Butterflies Page 3

  He wiped his phone off with his shirt—his shirt would be easier to replace than the phone. He inspected it to make sure that it wasn’t too wet, holding it up to the light as he did so.

  Once he was satisfied that he wouldn’t have to buy another expensive phone, he took a look at his books and sighed deeply. They hadn’t been nearly as lucky as his phone, and while it was going to be easier to replace them, Dallas wasn’t happy about this.

  He looked around his bedroom for any paper products, ones that would help him wipe up the mess.

  He couldn't find anything and while he would wipe down the nightstand with a towel, he realized he would have to go down to the kitchen to get what he needed to straighten up.

  Sometimes, he really hated living at the inn. He just hoped that he didn’t bump into Paul again, but Paul always seemed to be around, particularly when Dallas wanted to avoid him.

  He needed to stop thinking about Paul and get back to his own life. He had solved a problem and he thought that he should be proud of himself, but he still felt like he was standing on uneven ground. Something about all this was rubbing him the wrong way. There was no way that he could have gotten away with that, not without any consequences.

  Still, he had done it. It was done now and he couldn’t take it back.

  Even if he wanted to give Paul back his money, he wouldn't have been able to do it.

  He had already spent it all, on the hotel, but nevertheless, he no longer had it.

  That made him feel slightly guilty that he had turned Paul down when he had asked him on a date, but he felt less guilty when Paul decided to imply that his time was for sale.

  Dallas had absolutely no problem with sex workers, he just wasn't one of them. If he had been, he would have thought that Paul wanting to buy his time was flattering.

  The way that things stood right now, he didn't. Paul knew that he run the inn, he knew that he was the owner, and he was still trying to buy his time.

  That definitely made Dallas feel like he had been right about thinking that there was something sketchy about him.

  Then again, of course there was something weird about him, no one gave anyone $10,000 to stay in an inn for just one week, especially not The Butterfly Inn.

  He often found himself overanalyzing stuff for no reason, but he did think that overanalyzing Paul Starr’s presence was a valid thing to do.

  Still, Dallas knew that thinking about it wasn't going to get him any answers, and the only way that he would be able to get these answers would be by asking questions, questions that he might not want the answer to in the first place. He didn't want to bother Paul, after all, he was his guest. He didn't owe him any answers, he didn't owe him anything. Financially, Paul had made sure of that. If Dallas had wanted to make him accountable, the only avenues to him were social ones, which meant that he should have said yes when Paul had asked him out.

  But he had panicked, thinking that he was going to take him somewhere only drug dealers and other criminals went.

  Under other circumstances—if he had just seen the guy walk off the street, for example—Dallas wouldn’t have hesitated. A date with someone that good looking was like a dream come true.

  He shook his head. He didn’t see Paul at all when he was downstairs, which was lucky. He wasn't sure how he would react when he bumped into him again, because he was still offended by what Paul had said.

  He didn't think that he would get over it quickly, partially because it kept going in circles in his head.

  He was obsessing, which wasn't very healthy.

  He did look around to see if he spotted Paul anywhere, something that he was aware was stupid even as he was doing it, then quickly went upstairs before he bumped into any more guests.

  Once he got back to his room, he wiped his stuff down, made sure that everything was in as good a condition as it was going to be after he had spilled his wine and then he looked around the small attic bedroom.

  It was the same bedroom that his dad had when he had just bought the inn.

  It was a beautifully decorated bedroom, with a four-poster canopy bed, pastel-colored walls and gorgeous wooden furniture, which luckily took wine spillages relatively well.

  It felt more like his father's room that his own, though Dallas had still not been able to bring himself to update it so that it fit him more.

  There were some perks of living at the place he worked, but even with those taken into account, he was definitely interested in getting an apartment somewhere. He would have much preferred an individual kitchen over a communal one.

  The problem was that the city was expensive, he couldn't even think about parking, and there was no reason for him to find another place. Anytime that he would hook up with someone, that person would host, and that happened rarely. It wasn’t a good enough excuse to rent an apartment in one of the most expensive cities in the world.

  He sighed. He needed to get out of here, that was what was wrong. He was lonely, which meant that he was hyperobsessing over this guy that he had never really spoken to, except to exchange a few flirty words and ten grand.

  It was nothing, he knew that it was nothing, and he was in walking distance of one of the most popular and well-regarded club scenes in the world. People came from all over the world just to go to the clubs on that street.

  Dallas rarely went down there because he rarely could. Now that he was trying to get the money off his mind, though, he could go out and enjoy himself for a change.

  He thought about calling one of his friends, but he knew it was a bit late notice and there was a part of him that wanted to go home with the first guy that he found. He was pretty sure that his friends were going to judge him or worse, they would try to set him up on a blind date, and he didn’t like to think about the last time that had happened. Just thinking about it made him shudder.

  Right, the club. Paradis was only a block or two away and it was the most popular gay club in town. There was likely to be a line, but Dallas didn’t even need to go inside, there was a good chance that he could pick someone up before he entered the club.

  The line was always replete with good looking guys. He would feel better after he got Paul out of his system.

  He grabbed his nicest clothes and walked over to Paradis, telling Eros not to wait up for him as he walked out the door. Eros whistled and winked at him and Dallas flipped him off as he smiled.

  Walking outside instantly calmed his nerves. It was warm, like it always was, with a bit of a breeze, which meant that his hair wouldn’t be all fucked up when he got to the entrance of Paradis.

  Just like he had predicted, there was a huge line outside and a crowd of people gathered around to watch the outside drag performance. The inside one was a lot better—and way raunchier—but he wasn’t there to see a show, not by himself.

  He took his phone out of his pocket and booted up one of the hookup apps. He wasn’t a heavy app user, partly because he felt like he never had time for it, which meant that the majority of his photos were public bathroom selfies and a shirtless photo of him splashing around in the ocean that he had taken from one of his more family-friendly social networking profiles.

  Even with how poor his profile was, he still managed to get laid from it. He was about to turn his location on so that he could see all his available options when someone bumped into him.

  He turned around, prepared to see another beautiful man, this one particularly drunk. Like he had thought, even the line had many viable options. His eyes widened as he took in what he was seeing.

  A very drunk guy had just bumped into him, and another one was leaning against him. The latter one was wearing a shoulder-length platinum blond wig. Dallas wondered why he looked so familiar until the guy who had bumped into him giggled and the one in the wig slapped his chest, laughing with him.

  What Paul Starr was doing in a wig was none of Dallas’ business, but his curiosity was piqued, both regarding the wig and Paul’s companion. He hated that he was so curious
, so as they both stumbled forward, Dallas stayed back and weighed his options.

  He could go back to his room and pretend that this had never happened. Or he could stick around and go through with his plan, there was no reason why running into Paul should put a stop to it.

  The bouncer, a scary man that was about twice Dallas’ size, got in the way of Paul and his friend.

  “No,” he said, looking down at them, his eyes narrow. “Stop trying to get back in.”

  Dallas couldn’t help but stare. Getting kicked out of Paradis was almost impossible unless they had gotten into a fight with someone. Drugs and sex in the club were fine—almost expected—but the moment someone started throwing punches, they went out on the street and they didn’t get back into the club for the night.

  The bouncers also had good memories, so the ban could extend from the night to a week, a month, or forever, depending on how pushy people got.

  Paul had said that he got pushy. He was a foreign man, who seemed to be interested in men, in San Leandre. Getting a lifetime ban from Paradis would have been cruel and whether he was a criminal or not didn’t matter that much.

  Dallas bit his lower lip. He shouldn’t interfere, he knew that he should walk away, get back in line and carry on with his life, but this was unfair.

  “Come on,” Dallas said as he took a step toward them.

  Paul looked up at him, his brown eyes huge, a smile on his face. He giggled and he and his friend both wobbled in place.

  Dallas rolled his eyes as the bouncer looked down at him. “They’re my friends,” he said. “Sorry, I was supposed to be keeping an eye on them.”

  “Take them home.”

  “Will do,” Dallas replied. “Don’t worry, they won’t give you any more trouble. Guys, I’m serious.”

  The guy not wearing a wig looked up at Dallas and smiled at him.

  “Hi,” Dallas said. “Let’s go, you can sleep it off in his room.”

  The man turned to address Paul. “You know him?”

  Paul nodded, taking his wig off dramatically, and Dallas had to hold back a snicker. He was drunkenly charming, something that Dallas hadn’t expected.

  “Do you wanna go with him?”

  Paul nodded again.

  Dallas sighed. He would probably regret this in the morning. “You can crash with him, if you want. Or I can put you in a car to your hotel.”

  The man giggled, slapping Paul’s chest. “With him.”

  “Okay,” Dallas took a deep breath. He was slightly relieved that it looked like both of them were too drunk to perform then felt like an idiot for thinking that. He had no claim over Paul and he could do whatever he wanted with his life. That was why Dallas had gone to Paradis in the first place. He couldn’t be angry at Paul for it at all.

  He was calling a car by clicking some buttons on his phone as

  “Well, he has a double bed, but you guys can work out the sleeping arrangements. What’s your name?”

  “Bastian.”

  “Dallas.”

  “You’re cute. Are you with him?”

  “Clearly not,” Dallas replied, raising his eyebrows. His phone buzzed in his pocket to indicate that the car was arriving and he breathed a sigh of relief. He didn’t want to socialize with this person more than he had to.

  He couldn’t just dump Paul and Bastian on Eros, because Eros had other things to do and he couldn’t put them to bed. The moment that Dallas got in the car, after he and the driver had to coax both of them into it, he realized that he had made a huge mistake, but it was too late to go back.

  Bastian and Paul were giggling in the backseat while Dallas assured the driver that he would be more than happy to pay the cleanup fee if it came to that. Luckily, Paul leaned back and seemed to fall asleep, and Bastian was more interested in his phone than anything else that was happening around him.

  The ride to the inn took no time, but it took Dallas forever to try to talk them into leaving the car.

  Bastian was the first one that stepped out, since he was closest to the sidewalk. Dallas was hoping that Bastian would be upright enough to help Paul up the stairs, but when he stumbled down onto the sidewalk, Dallas could tell that it was a lost cause.

  “Can you stay here for a second?” Dallas asked.

  Bastian nodded, laying down on the dirty sidewalk. His clothes looked expensive, but as long as he wasn’t going anywhere, Dallas didn’t mind too much. He was also more concerned about Paul than he was about Bastian. Partially, it was because he seemed more drunk, but at the same time, Dallas knew that it had more to do with the fact that Paul had given him $10,000 and Bastian had only given him a compliment.

  Not a particularly good one.

  He leaned down to collect Paul from the seat. Paul wrapped his arms around his neck instinctively, holding him close, and Dallas could smell the alcohol in his breath, his expensive cologne, baby powder and glitter all at the same time. It was almost too much.

  Paul was bigger than him and it was hard for Dallas to prop him up when he wasn’t helping himself.

  “I need your help, buddy.”

  Paul looked up at him, a smile on his face. “I needed the wig.”

  “Okay. You’re going to have to step out and get on your feet.”

  Paul shook his head. “Shh. I’m famous. Your eyes are so pretty.”

  “You’re still going to have to get on your feet if you want to go up to bed,” Dallas said. “And I’m paying for this Uber, so…”

  “Sorry,” Paul said, trying to steady himself as he got on his feet. He wobbled and nearly lost his footing. Dallas tried to keep both of them up as Paul took a couple of steps forward and Dallas took a couple back.

  Paul turned back to close the door behind him and Dallas nearly let go of him. It was hard to keep him up when he was leaning down. He slammed the door open and Dallas shut his eyes.

  If he hadn’t been so over encumbered with Paul on top of him, he would have apologized to the driver, but the driver drove away as he honked a couple of times. Dallas was sure that he was glad to get rid of them.

  It wasn’t helping him any.

  “Let’s go up to bed, okay?”

  Paul giggled. “With you?”

  “No,” Dallas said, smiling at him despite himself.

  Paul pouted. “Why?”

  “You’re drunk and I’m not a cheap date.”

  “I can tell.”

  “Let’s go,” Dallas said. He turned around, putting his hand around Paul’s waist and propping him up. Paul put his arm around his shoulders and leant his head against him.

  Dallas was stone-cold sober, but he felt light-headed and his heart was beating hard and fast in his chest. He stopped himself from saying anything about it. He was just helping someone who had drank too much, he shouldn’t have felt so happy that they were touching.

  Dallas knew that it was probably the only time that they would get to touch. Nothing was going to happen between them, this would be the only time that they would be this close to each other and Dallas told himself that was okay. He liked the way that Paul smelled, even though he was drunk, because he didn’t think that he would get to smell him again.

  It was stupid.

  He knew that he was being stupid and immature, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t like he was doing anything wrong. If anything, he was doing this guy a favor. Enjoying it a little bit didn’t make him a creep—he needed to stop overthinking it, because even as he did, Paul slumped forward as he bumped against the step and then over Bastian, almost taking Dallas down with him. Dallas barely managed to catch himself in time, his face hovering inches above the ground as Paul giggled into his arm.

  Dallas let go of him and sat down, cross-legged on the ground as he stared at the two men that he was trying to get into his inn and wondered what the fuck he was doing.

  Paul wasn’t his friend. He was just his guest, one that Dallas had told himself to stay away from in the first place, but he hadn’t done a good job of it.
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br />   Paul stopped giggling as he looked up at his face. “I’ve upset you.”

  Dallas smiled, shaking his head. “Not really. I could’ve just left you at Paradis.”

  “But you’re nice.”

  Dallas shrugged. “That seemed a bit shitty.”

  “You’re sweet.”

  “Tell me again tomorrow. After you get out of bed.”

  “Okay,” Paul said. He tried to get onto his feet, Dallas grabbed him in order to steady him, both of them finally standing up, Paul wobbly on his feet. “I’d like to thank you. Seriously.”

  “Sure. When you’re sober.”

  Dallas finally managed to edge closer toward the door, which he pushed open with his shoulder, Paul stumbling into the lobby behind him, his arm still around Dallas’ shoulder.

  Eros looked up at them from the computer and smiled.

  Dallas took a deep breath. “A little help?”

  “Sure,” Eros said, walking over to them.

  “No. There’s another one outside.”

  Eros snickered. “Same room?”

  “Yeah, I think so.”

  “Ah. That’s a shame.”

  “Whatever. Go get him.”

  “Yes, boss.”

  Dallas rolled his eyes as he got closer to the stairs. “You’re going to have to hold on to the banister, okay? Eros will help your friend up to bed. We don’t normally allow guests to have people overnight, but I’ll make an exception for your friend. He’s hammered.”

  “I just met him tonight.”

  “Make sure to hide your valuables, then.”

  Paul snickered. “Can we have ice cream tomorrow?”

  Dallas rolled his eyes. “I don’t think so.”

  “On me,” Paul said. “I’d like to thank you. Not a date, just…”

  “What?”

  “I dunno, gratitude ice cream.”

  “No, thanks.”

  “C’mon. Just say yes. I probably won’t remember it tomorrow anyway.”

  Dallas smiled. “Will you go up the stairs if I say yes?”

  Paul nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “Totally.”

  “Fine. Let’s do it, then.”

  “I’ll hold you to that.”

  Dallas smirked. “I’m holding you to going up the stairs first.”